Hill watched the giant screen and smiled happily.
Completely unlike Felis, who was being protected with meticulous care below, the Undead were all trying to get William into the heaviest barrage.
To make sure those fierce Big Fireballs from the other side could scorch William's face, one Undead suspended in midair even canceled his skill and crashed hard to the ground, losing a huge chunk of health.
Hill could actually understand why the Undead acted this way.
In their hearts, since that dog of a planner had shown up, there was no way they would let him off without messing with him.
Anyway, he definitely would not die. He might even preserve an image of himself as incomparably heroic amid the flames of war.
Who would want to see that outcome?
Even if the dog planner could not die, they could still make sure he looked as miserable as possible by the time he went back.
Preferably turning into a roasted pig right under Shar's nose.
Only those who understood them would know what this was about. Even William himself would not feel dissatisfied because of it.
What planner dared parachute into a game without spending a few days psyching himself up and swearing not to get angry first?
But in some people's eyes, this probably meant the Undead simply refused to obey William and listened only to the God of Space-Time.
Although the Undead looked like they were working under William's command, in an evil world, obeying your orders, refusing to submit to you, and wanting to kill you were never mutually contradictory.
The Undead's determination to kill William was obvious at a glance.
They could spare those they were chasing for the moment, and they were even willing to play horse herders for now.
But they would never